


until your breathing stops forever

by oddpen



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, F/F, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:15:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8757769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddpen/pseuds/oddpen
Summary: Yongsun’s eyes wander around, flickering between the silhouetted trees, the lights shining bright from the faraway buildings she leaves behind. The atmosphere is thick, weighing her down as she steps closer and closer to her destination.





	

Yongsun cuts her hair the night the new moon rises.  
  
She walks down the empty streets, hands in the pockets of her bomber jacket, the thick soles of her boots muffled against the concrete sidewalk.  
  
The night is still.  
  
It’s late, Yongsun likes it better like this. Likes that it’s only her and the ink dark sky. The clouds overhead are high, wispy, barely existing.  
  
There’s a lot of things she has to do, a lot of time do them.  
  
Yongsun’s eyes wander around, flickering between the silhouetted trees, the lights shining bright from the faraway buildings she leaves behind. The atmosphere is thick, weighing her down as she steps closer and closer to her destination.  
  
There’s someone in the distance, Yongsun knows who it is, can pick up her smell, the smell of snow, fresh blood, citrus.  
  
She slows down, watching as the other girl’s eyes change, silver flooding over her pupils.  
  
“Kim Yongsun,” she says, lips upturning into a sly grin, arms crossing.  
  
Yongsun stops in her tracks, hands coming out of her pockets, “is she here?” she asks, fingers clenching into a fist.  
  
Byulyi glides to her, an airless movement, arms draping over Yongsun’s shoulders.  
  
“Don’t brush me off like this,” Byulyi whines, cold fingers gripping at the side of Yongsun’s neck, “you know I don’t like it.”  
  
Yongsun rolls her eyes but doesn’t move, “Is she here?” she asks again.  
  
Byulyi’s grip loosens, mouth opening into a sigh, “Hyejinnie?”  
  
Yongsun doesn’t bother to answer the question, instead waiting for Byulyi to finally answer her own.  
  
“Of course she is,” Byulyi finally answers, body no longer draped over Yongsun, settling back to her previous post, “she always is.”  
  
Yongsun stays quiet only for a second, “Tell her I’m here,” she demands.  
  
“ _Please_ ,” Byulyi sounds bored, looks away, “she’s already waiting for you.”  
  
-  
  
The path up Hyejin’s manor is narrow, edged by the wild roots and weeds of the forest. Yongsun feels herself shiver, biting her tongue to keep herself grounded.  
  
The old gates open for her on their own, creaking with the swing of them, closing with a low thud when Yongsun steps over them.  
  
She swallows as she rings the bell, listening to the echo of it, eyes scanning over the dark atmosphere that presses over her.  
  
“Kim Yongsun,” a sweet voice greets her, door opening silently, “you’re quick.”  
  
Yongsun startles back, gaze locking with the other’s sandy eyes, bright in the night.  
  
“I’m here for-”  
  
“Hyejin,” Wheein finishes, “yes, we know.”  
  
Wheein leads her up the spiraling staircase, down long corridors before they stop in front of heavy ornate doors, golden doorknobs glinting in the dim lighting.  
  
Wheein doesn’t say anything as Yongsun reaches for it, opening the door, closing it behind her.  
  
The bed in the middle of the room is dressed in white silk, curtains tied into flowing columns. Yongsun moves carefully, hands reaching to turn on the lamp on the bedside, washing the room in warm orange light.  
  
Yongsun tenses when the air changes, turning slowly as the smell of honey hits her, blood, and sunshine.  
  
“Took your time,” Hyejin’s voice breaks the silence, dipping low when their eyes meet.  
  
Yongsun loses herself in the steely blue of Hyejin’s eyes, she would blush if she could.  
  
“I came as soon as I heard,” Yongsun finally says, “I’m wondering why I heard of you being here from anyone but _you_.”  
  
Hyejin raises an eyebrow, moving gracefully towards her.  
  
Yongsun doesn’t bother moving back, eyes stuck on the way the hem of Hyejin’s shirt moves around her thighs, the golden stripe just above her black tights.  
  
“You’ve cut your hair,” Hyejin is close, pressing even closer, fingers finding their way to Yongsun’s hair, breaking up the chestnut colored strands.  
  
Yongsun doesn’t say anything to that, only nods, feeling the way Hyejin’s grip tightens a bit, pulling her closer.  
  
“I liked it longer better,” Hyejin says, hands falling away from Yongsun, taking a step back.  
  
Yongsun doesn’t know what to do, if she should follow. She watches Hyejin instead, watching her move through her room, picking up a white fur coat, slipping it on easily. Yongsun swallows when Hyejin turns to look at her, gaze over her shoulder, urging Yongsun to follow her.  
  
The study room is cold, Yongsun has been here before. It looks the same as years before. Hyejin walks towards the low coffee table, taking a seat on the arm chair, eyes watching for Yongsun to do the same.  
  
Yongsun moves slowly, finding herself sitting on the empty couch, gingerly leaning towards Hyejin.  
  
“You’ve been here for a while,” Hyejin says, voice calm, “you’re always where I don’t want you to be.”  
  
Yongsun doesn’t respond, eyes dropping to the floor.  
  
“I should have claimed you ages ago,” Hyejin’s voice drawls out, “if only you weren’t royalty.”  
  
Yongsun flinches at that, hand going to her wrist on reflex, fingers skimming over her scarred mark.  
  
“Now I don’t think I care about that,” Hyejin grins at her, eyes flickering to the way Yongsun covers her wrist.  
  
There’s a lot of ways of turning. Yongsun has read of them all.  
  
Yongsun is old blood, born undead and bitten by her own mother. Marks on the wrist are a sign of pure breed royalty and at one point it had meant something.  
  
She’s not sure when Hyejin moved, only knows that her back hits the arm of the couch, that the mark on Hyejin’s golden shoulder should not be so intimidating.  
  
“You’ll let me claim you,” Hyejin says, voice dark, “I’ve had enough of you being around but not being mine.”  
  
She knew this would happened. She knew the moment the underworld had started throwing around Hyejin’s name in hushed whispers.  
  
Yongsun knew that the moment she set foot towards Hyejin’s she would have to submit.  
  
The fur from Hyejin’s coat presses against her body, it’s uncomfortable how warm it is between their cold bodies.  
  
“I’m yours,” Yongsun whispers, “claim me.”  
  
-  
  
Hyejin’s bedroom is still lit by the glow of the lamp. Yongsun’s eyes catch with Wheein’s gaze, standing as sentry at the side of the bed, holding the oil imprinted with Hyejin’s scent, the dark richness of Hyejin’s blood.  
  
Hyejin laughs when Yongsun stalls, merely shrugging her coat off, waving at the direction of the bed.  
  
“Don’t be difficult now,” Hyejin seems unconcerned, “get in the bed.”  
  
Yongsun does so, sitting on at the edge, moving up when Wheein gives her a hard look, unimpressed.  
  
She’s in the center, sitting against the headrest.  
  
“Where’s Byulyi,” she asks, looking at Wheein for an answer.  
  
“Hyejin sent her away,” Wheein answers, “she won’t risk any sudden movements from Byulyi.”  
  
Hyejin huffs from the the chair she’s placed her coat, hands undoing the buttons of her shirt, “Byulyi will know she lost,” Hyejin sounds annoyed, “and she will be happy about it,” her hands work down her shirt, “You were always mine and never hers.”  
  
Yongsun’s gaze locks on the way golden shoulders appear, skin smooth, almost glowing against the low lighting. She’s always wondered how Hyejin kept her golden tone, who she must have before she was turned.  
  
Hyejin’s shirt drops on the floor and all Yongsun has to see is inch upon inch of beautiful skin, body curving generously, barely covered by lace.  
  
She stills when Hyejin kisses her, like everything Hyejin, so unexpected, so sudden. She's already bearing her fangs, can feel the way they catch on her bottom lip.  
  
Yongsun is still clothed, her hands limp at her sides, all too aware of Wheein watching.  
  
They could kiss forever, Yongsun wonders if they will, hands clenching when there’s a purposeful nip at her lip, dull with its pain.  
  
When Hyejin pulls away Yongsun knows there’s no turning back, feels long fingers wrapping around her marked wrist, watching as Wheein opens the small bottle of Hyejin’s blood.  
  
It’s the first time Yongsun has felt pain in years.  
  
Hyejin’s fangs come out fully, her wrist is brought forward to them. Yongsun wants to close her eyes but she can’t look away as Hyejin’s fangs align themselves to the two bite marks, ripping open her pulse again.  
  
It _aches_ , sets fire to her empty veins, scorches her nerves, Hyejin pulls away, hand going for the bottle, fingers dipping into it, smearing it across the new marks. Her hand guides the openings to Yongsun’s lips. Pressing forward until Yongsun’s tongue licks to taste the blood, letting Hyejin’s claim become a part of her. The pain feels like it's consuming her, her body reacting like it never had before, it feels alive. For a second Yongsun knows what being alive feels like. The beat of a heart, blood rushing through her veins, she takes a deep breath and it’s gone.  
  
Hyejin pulls her wrist back and with clean fingers she seals her wound with oil, watching the way they scar over again, like the one on Wheein’s neck.  
  
With bloodied lips Yongsun lets out her last breath.


End file.
